CHAPTER XI.

NORHAMBURY.

THE Cathedral Precincts of Norhambury were remarkable for their great extent, and stretched away along the north, south, and east sides of the Cathedral, while it was bounded on the west by the town. A venerable gateway led from the picturesque old street into the southern Precinct-or the Elms, as it was generally called-from a clump of fine old trees at the south-east corner, which formed a delightfully shady nook on hot summer days. Canon Oakham's house has already been described as abutting on the Cathedral; and, indeed, the Bishops, Deans, and Canons of the present day seem to live amidst the ruins of the habitations of their long-past predecessors, for most of the existing Cathedral residences are so built into the remains of the ancient monasteries, that each can

boast of ancient walls, mullioned windows, or vaulted

cellars.

Beyond the Elms was an old-fashioned square garden, open to all the members of the Cathedral body, and known as the Bowling Green. Due east came the Deanery garden, and at the north-east corner stood the Deanery, facing the northern portion of the Precincts, which was called the Grey Court, and contained various interesting ruins connected with former times. Here, again, Canons' houses were intermixed with the ruins. On the north side, another gateway opened from a ragged suburb of the town into the Palace grounds, in which might be seen and traced what the Bishop's palace had once been. What remained of the ancient walls was hidden under a mass of subsequent additions; and the result was, that the existing house was rambling and irregular, without being picturesque; old, without antiquity; large, yet not handsome. But we will pass on from the outward appearance of the residences to their inmates.

At the time we are speaking of, the Bishop had been established at Norhambury for ten or twelve years. He was still in the full vigour of life-an active, earnest man, who had accepted the office

solely with the desire of doing his duty in it to the utmost. He was, in every best sense of the word, liberal; he was hospitable and generous. Besides this, he had many social advantages. Both he and his wife were of good family, and were able to command a large circle of interesting friends and acquaintances. When the Bishop and Mrs. Sinclair were at home, the Precincts seemed to acquire new life. There were always friends coming and going; the Palace was the centre of whatever interest was going on in the town.

Dr. Gilmore, the Dean, was an old man. He had begun life under the most favourable auspices. He had been a handsome young man, with powerful friends, and soon after his ordination he had been appointed to a fashionable church in London. He had married a very pretty wife, and they were most popular additions to dinner-parties, and other social gatherings. He was an eloquent preacher, and successively held several posts of importance. He was Archdeacon of Endleton, Canon of Southam, and, lastly, Dean of Norhambury. All his friends were persuaded he would certainly end by being a Bishop, if not an Archbishop. He made no secret of his

anxiety on this point, nor of his disappointment when Bishop after Bishop died, and were succeeded -not by him. It was said that on one occasion he had been sent for by the Prime Minister of the day, to the great excitement of his wife and family. He obeyed the summons without a moment's delay, and was ushered into Lord M's presence, in the full expectation of being told to be in readiness to accept a Bishopric, which was on the point of falling vacant.

Lord M

received him most graciously, as all men

in high positions do.

"Dr. Gilmore," he began, "I sent for you to tell you

"My Lord," said the footman, opening the door, "the wishes to see your Lordship for five

Duke of A

minutes on most urgent business."

"Will you excuse me, Dr. Gilmore? I will return immediately."

The five minutes became ten, and the ten became twenty, during which time Dr. Gilmore was left to meditate, not upon the expected Bishopric, but upon what could be the subject of regret which his Lordship had to communicate. At last he returned.

"I beg you ten thousand pardons, Dr. Gilmore! But the Duke's business was important. Now, to continue. I deeply regret to say, that in the present system of retrenchment, it has been considered right to abolish the trifling sinecure you hold about the Court. But I have arranged that the salary shall not cease till Midsummer." It was then the middle of March.

Dr. Gilmore could only express his thanks for the courteous way in which he had been informed of his loss of salary; and as at that moment the footman reappeared to announce another person, whose interview had been appointed, he took his leave.

On his return, he found his wife and daughters all curiosity, and greeting him as " My Lord!”

"How can you be so foolish!" he exclaimed, in a tone of irritation. And he hurried through to his study, whence Mrs. Gilmore followed him, and heard the result of the interview.

Life was closing in now, and all such hopes were at an end. His children were married and dispersed; and he and his still handsome wife had resigned themselves to end their days in the Deanery at Norhambury.

On the southern side of the Grey Court was a long, low house, belonging to the senior Canon, Dr. Salmon.